


the King’s favorite

by teawriter



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Post-Betrayal, Slight spoilers, drabble because I was bored, hirasaka knows more than anyone thinks she does, set in canon season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-12 02:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18001880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teawriter/pseuds/teawriter
Summary: In a nearby alley, partially blocked by a vending machine and the row of buses that take turns loading and unloading passengers, are two strangers- young adults, if anyone cares to look close enough, and one might mistake them for friends, even partners. An obvious conclusion, with the little distance between them, and the fact that they are alone.”I met your King earlier.”





	the King’s favorite

In a nearby alley, partially blocked by a vending machine and the row of buses that take turns loading and unloading passengers, are two strangers- young adults, if anyone cares to look close enough, and one might mistake them for friends, even partners. An obvious conclusion, with the little distance between them, and the fact that they are alone.

Look closer, though, and the green light glinting off of glasses and of knives will be visible- the power of JUNGLE’s core. The sound of digital downloading, masked by traffic and passerby conversation, fills the alley.

”I met your King earlier.”

Fushimi Saruhiko doesn’t give her a reaction; too much of his life has been spent building and perfecting a face of indifference for him to show anything but even at a comment like that. But the memory of scathing words, of post-failure bitterness flooding out in a rush and barbs exchanged in the heat-of-the-moment anger, is too fresh for it not to sting, and part of him tenses at ‘your King.’ “What do I care?”

Green eyes flicker from a PDA to him, assessing and curious at the same time. “You’re not denying it?”

At times, Hirasaka Douhan is the most tolerable person in JUNGLE. Other times, she is one of the most infuriating- like now, when she pretends to know more than she actually does. How annoying. “We’re meeting to exchange points, not gossip like bored thirteen year olds. Get on with it already.”

She doesn’t; instead, she pockets her PDA and fishes around in her pocket. Apparently her story is more important than bringing down JUNGLE from the inside, but the priorities of the Green clansmen were never very high to begin with. _Why did I join again_...?

His inner rambling cuts to a stop as something flies at him in his peripheral. One hand disappears into his jacket, grabs the handle of one out of many knives in his harness as his feet shift- but it’s just... what is it? He catches it dully in one palm, brings it a little closer to eye level- a puzzle piece.

“I ran into him today on a solo job. Your old clan’s doing patrol work around Mihashira now.” She nods at it. “He asked me to give you this.”

Fushimi looks down at the puzzle piece again, and suddenly Scepter 4 feels a little bit closer. Suddenly, Munakata Reisi does not feel so far away. Something in him aches, and his fingers close around the tiny cardboard piece almost protectively. “... Why?”

Hirasaka is possibly the most competent person in JUNGLE, if the way she looks at him means anything- like she can see the real question he’s asking. “I’m not blind, Saruhiko-kun, nor am I stupid. I know what he means to you, and what you mean to him. Anyone could, if they look close enough.”

_I cannot afford to lose you._

_You’re used to being a traitor anyway._

Suddenly Fushimi is too tired, and too irritable- his hands and elbows hurt from breaking glass, and there’s a small cut somewhere in his arm that stings. This mission that he has to carry out, the one that doesn’t let him sleep at night, it bears down on his shoulders like bricks on a sinking paper boat and this conversation is not helping at all. “Just give me the damn points already.”

When he is tired, his patience runs thin and his voice becomes steel. Hirasaka’s face and tone remain unchanged as she pulls out her PDA and starts the transaction, and it is sickening. “Do with it what you like, even throw it away if you must.”

”But what?”

”I don’t know him like you do. But I think he’s still waiting for a lost piece to come home.” Green locks with blue in more ways than just eye color. “There is a reason you’re called ‘the King’s favorite.’”

With a click and one final beep, the transaction is complete. Hirasaka slides the PDA back in her pocket and walks out of the alley, with directions to the next rendez-vous point and leaving him against the wall, and alone with his thoughts.

It’s just one puzzle piece, one small piece of cardboard- insignificant and easily replaced. He could just throw it away here, like she said, and never have to think about it again. Never have to worry about it again, or have any reminder of that man after what he said.

Instead, Fushimi’s fingers refuse to open, and the very idea of leaving it here makes his mouth dry, makes his pulse race just a little quicker in something close to anxiety. He looks at it- notes the slightly bent, well-worn edges that don’t quite mask the cornflower blue- and thinks about sleepy evenings, innocent touches, and one last conversation before it all fell to pieces.

_“When the mission is completed, it is my personal wish and not my duty that asks you to return.”_

_”And if I don’t? You know I could really betray Scepter 4 like I did the Red clan, if I wanted to.”_

_”Then it will be so, if you find that the Green clan suits you more than this Blue._ _If you’ll let me be selfish, though, I would wish only that it had turned out differently.”_

_”... Why does this outcome matter so much to you? There could be a million other people who could take my place if it comes down to it.”_

_”There could be. However... there is only one Fushimi Saruhiko, and he is someone I cannot afford to lose even if he was not part of my clan, and I do not wish to.”_

_”... you won’t_.”

Minutes later, those who pay attention will see a figure walk out of that same alley, eyes trained on his PDA and hand inside his pocket. What they won’t know is the puzzle piece he carries in that pocket, the same one he holds onto just to make sure it’s still there. They won’t see the lingering ache that throws at the back of his heart, nor the desire to return to the one he called home.

Hours later, long after midnight, in the dimly lit office of Annex 4 there is a man dressed in a blue coat, still awake and still regretting the words spoken in the emotion of the moment more than a month ago. His hand rests on a sword, wrapped in a coat that has yet to be worn once more, and his eyes rest on a photograph.

A private photograph, one that few know he has- of him and a young man with blue eyes and a sardonic, slightly upturned smile at the corners of his mouth on the beach, next to a giant sandcastle. Neither are looking at the camera, but at each other, and it is the happiest he’s seen of his third in command. 

The sword is too cold even wrapped up, and the office is too empty and lonely. The man looks away from the photograph towards the night sky, and closes his eyes.

 _I wish to see you again_.


End file.
